


Exposure Therapist

by Meansock



Series: this clinic is very blue [1]
Category: EXO (Band), Ten Count
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bottom Kim Jongdae | Chen, Crushes, Cute, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Tension, Social Anxiety, Top Kim Minseok | Xiumin, it's less angsty than it seems, slight mentions of suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 11:30:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18248945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meansock/pseuds/Meansock
Summary: Hello, please read the tags before proceeding with this fic :)) I'm including some slight suicidal/depressive thoughts as well as self-hate (but they're minor). Also some wrong ideas about psychology (dont @ me if you're a psychologist ok).This fic is based on the manga Ten Count by Rihito Takarai but you don't need to read it in order to understand what's happening in this work. It's a really interesting manga though, so I recommend you read it sometime :)I added some "moodsetters" which are basically a picture and a song you can listen to before/while reading each chapter so that you can get in the *drumroll* mood (that sounds kinda wrong but you know what I mean)Enjoy!





	1. Minseok, Mr Upper Spiritual Being and Carbon Monoxide

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, please read the tags before proceeding with this fic :)) I'm including some slight suicidal/depressive thoughts as well as self-hate (but they're minor). Also some wrong ideas about psychology (dont @ me if you're a psychologist ok).
> 
> This fic is based on the manga Ten Count by Rihito Takarai but you don't need to read it in order to understand what's happening in this work. It's a really interesting manga though, so I recommend you read it sometime :)
> 
> I added some "moodsetters" which are basically a picture and a song you can listen to before/while reading each chapter so that you can get in the *drumroll* mood (that sounds kinda wrong but you know what I mean)
> 
> Enjoy!

[N i G H T S - Paradise](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LYrY4C9xWeg)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwiFucLQzaDhAhXKmLQKHVV4CBwQjRx6BAgBEAU&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ahtapot.org%2Faesthetic-room-decor%2F&psig=AOvVaw36RGd4UAWUlbl844vOen8G&ust=1553717119229162)

_What the fuck am I doing._

Minseok slowly sat up on his bed, cheeks stained with hot tears, some drool on the corner of his mouth, his eyes feeling puffy. He’d been “praying”, like he did almost every night against his pillow but he almost ended up falling asleep. It was the first time he was so caught up in it that he cried, though.

Minseok was religious. Not strictly, he just liked the idea of a superior, spiritual Something he could blame stuff on, pray to, ask guidance, feel protected. It wasn’t like “connecting” and “communicating” with God whenever he prayed. It was more like “getting shit out of my system and no one will hear it”.

Minseok appeared stoic to everyone at first, reserved, grounded, serious, careful with his patients and passionate about his job. Nothing has changed too much yet, not to others. He just appeared a little more disheveled, sometimes unshaved (which was unheard of a couple years back), drunk maybe a bit too much coffee and fidgeted a whole lot. He had hunched forward a bit. He felt stressed.

But Minseok knew himself. He knew that it wasn’t necessarily the idea of work which reduced him from a bright young man to a… not so bright man. He still loved his job at the clinic. He didn’t have the threat of falling into the rarely escapable routine that so many people were suffering form, because his patients were different people with different personalities, different faces, different issues, required different treatments.

Minseok realised, about a week back, that spending so much time with unhealthy people had started messing with his own mentality. He had developed some kind of minor anger issue. Total addiction to coffee. He couldn’t eat properly because of his constantly churned stomach. He used to have one of these watches that kept track of his physical state but he had so many reminders of “you should sleep more :)” that he vividly remembers throwing it straight at some wall.

It was then when he thought, collecting the broken watch’s glass, _wow why on Earth did I do that._

His sister had warned him. She always said you’d need to be a little unstable yourself if you were willing to listen to others’ suffering for a living. You’d either be unstable in the first place, or end up losing it. She was saying that from the moment Minseok suggested psychology as potential future route, but he relied on his immense stability. Down-to-earth, healthy and determined Minseok wouldn’t waver just by hearing others’ problems. That’s what he thought.

It was safe to say that Minseok didn’t enjoy his life. He felt like he was disappointing whoever depended on him – that’s a lot of people, by the way –, tiring his family, boring his friends. He used to have a bunch of friends when he first got his job. Two remained.

Minseok didn’t want to _end_ his life. No, he wouldn’t attempt it. But if a brick fell on his head from a height of 10 m and he died, well, that wouldn’t be half bad. If his heart decided to quit while he was sleeping, that would’ve been even better. Probably painless, too.

That’s why he recently developed the want to fall asleep and never wake up. Just like using carbon monoxide. He thought of it for real once. But where the fuck is he gonna buy carbon monoxide. Do you even buy this thing? Do you go “excuse me, I’d like some deadly gas” and they’d hand it to you?

The daily prayers before going to sleep changed from “keep me healthy” to “let me sleep and never wake up”. And tonight he really, _really_ wanted it. He wanted it so much that he cried. Fingers interlaced in front of his forehead, head resting uncomfortably on one of his many pillows, ugly sobbing and finally drool when he relaxed a bit.

He’s been waking up every day for thirty-four years now. It had started to get exhausting.

He felt that his hair was a mess when he got up. He didn’t actually sleep, did he?

Goddamn. What would it take for Mr. Upper Spiritual Being to pity him if even crying didn’t work?

_Buzz-buzz. Buzz-buzz._

It was late, but someone was calling him. He had dumped his phone somewhere, he didn’t really remember where. Everything was vague once he returned form the clinic, always. With large strides he followed the sound of his phone’s vibrations, crossing his small apartment until he found it on his kitchenette’s tiny counter.

He peeked at his phone’s screen. It was work, who else.

He didn’t know what he expected, being honest. No one else ever calls him except his landlord or unless some "friend" needed money. His family used to call him, and he used to call them too, but that ended a long time ago.

He coughed loudly once, to get rid of any evidence from his crying, and answered the call.

‘Good evening, you’ve reached Kim Minseok.’

_This better be about money._


	2. Minseok, Jongdae and electricity bills

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwia-5-H3MPhAhWD_KQKHcW_BvAQjRx6BAgBEAU&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F386535580516564379%2F&psig=AOvVaw0foqtZ49nmTUpQ1Kr2vE8C&ust=1554923614590587)

[[カフネ – Yoh Kamiyama]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMr-NSpdumQ)

 

Jongdae didn’t want a therapist.

He has been avoiding them for ten years now. Going to a therapist meant having no friends to talk to, someone to sort things out with. Therapists were supposedly the very last option.

Yet, there he was, sitting in some Kim’s office, waiting for them to arrive. The blueness of this clinic drove him crazy. He knew blue was supposedly a calming colour, but there was so much of it he didn’t doubt the cafeteria sold blue food as well.

Kim’s office wasn’t all that blue, though. Only the chair he was sitting on was blue, a couple of books discarded on the large desk and a beautiful orchid by the window. He’d never seen such a blue orchid before.

Jongdae’s condition was psychological, but not the usual kind. You couldn’t really go to a psychiatrist and swallow a couple of pills. It sounded silly – a fear of bacteria – but it ruined him, little by little. It had started forming a wall between him and the outside world. He was almost afraid to go outside by now. It was difficult to breathe the same air so many other people were breathing. It was difficult to take public transport when he knew most of Seoul’s population went home using the subway. He disliked touching people some time ago, but now he despised it. Something as simple as a handshake that even a kid could do without any trouble, made him feel nauseous.

‘Kim Jongdae, right?’

Jongdae was so lost in thought he almost jumped off the chair. He sharply turned around to face the office’s entrance and found a man in a blue uniform letting himself in. His dress shoes made a light, pleasant sound against the floor tiles as he swiftly made his way on the other side of the desk, near the window and the blue orchid.

Jongdae stood up to greet the newcomer, the therapist he was assigned to, according to the uniform, and they shook hands. Jongdae was wearing his gloves like always, that way he wasn’t bothered by handshakes anymore.  

A handshake said a lot about someone, Jongdae noticed through the years. He met people with very subtle and light grips, some that just took your hand without actually shaking it at all, others whose handshakes were so firm Jongdae was afraid he’d pop his knuckles or something. It’d be embarrassing.

This man’s handshake was… different. Jongdae could feel the stress emitting from this handshake. It was half-assed, but not because he was bored or lazy. It was firm, and his hand was pleasantly warm, he could feel it through his gloves. His movements indicated a certain a hurry but at the same time like he could wait forever for Jongdae to even start talking.

‘I’m sorry for my tardiness,’ he said, fixing something on his sleeve before he rolled it up his elbow. ‘I’m Kim Minseok, I’m your… I’m the guy you have to talk to.’

_I’m the guy you have to talk to._ How beautifully put. As if he was reading his mind before and he knew he hated the idea of a therapist. Well, most patients probably did. He could be introducing himself like this to everyone for all he knew.

Jongdae hadn’t taken a look at Kim Minseok’s face yet. He felt afraid to. His voice sounded dead but also playful, low-pitched with an attractive timbre, but probably from smoking. His nails had their life bitten out of them, except for the pinky fingers. The forearms he exposed were pale and the veins on their underside were prominent. He followed a sole vein that popped on the upper side of his forearm, through the thinnest layer of hair and down to the back of his calloused hand, hugging his index finger in an odd way. Or maybe that was another vein. There were a lot of veins there, at the back of his hand.

He could have spent a few more minutes analyzing Minseok’s hands – maybe trying to figure out which vein was the one reaching the base of his index – if he didn’t slowly sit down, placing order in some of his documents. Jongdae followed his lead, sitting as gently as he could, feeling his back sink in the cushioned chair once more, distracting him with its comfort.

‘It’s very nice to meet you,’ he said in a small voice. He wasn’t used to meeting new people and he always got a little shy. Hell, his habit of looking down was so powerful he only knew what Kim Minseok’s forearms and hands looked like.

‘So, Mr. Kim,’ Minseok said. ‘Do you want this to be an interview or do you feel like telling me your life story?’

Jongdae had to look up. The tone of the older’s voice was not very decipherable, it didn’t sound like sarcasm but this man confused Jongdae to no end. He felt like seeking further explanation in his face.

‘Do you want to spill everything or do I take the lead?’ he elaborated using a gentler tone, recognising his patient’s confusion.

‘Um… I…’

Kim Minseok had a bit of a baby face. It was round but not as pale as he had originally pictured, with large feline eyes and a round, rosy mouth. But if you looked a second longer, you’d notice his high cheekbones, his thick eyebrows, the sharpness that his eyes had, the many small flaws on his skin, how his lips were actually chapped. If you looked a bit more, you’d see age, but not the natural kind. Bags and all sorts of lines under his eyes, the puffiness that was considered attractive and cutesy only gave off a tired vibe. A while longer and you’d have to admire his hair. Wild, thick, dark, it was all swept back carelessly but it was short enough that it didn’t look bad. Many stray strands had fallen on his forehead, others were halfway there, casting a shadow over the wrinkle between his eyebrows. One moment more and you’d pay attention to all the unnecessary things; how the sunlight highlighted his jawline and the line of his upper lip and brought out the bridge of his nose; the shadows cast over him deepening the faint acne scars on his cheeks and darkening the caramel of his eyes to an almost intimidating hue.

Minseok slowly broke into a questioning smile and Jongdae realised he had been staring.

_Ah, not starting well, are we?_ What image had Minseok made of Jongdae? A guy who can’t form a sentence, stares without trying to make it subtle, is afraid of things he can’t even see… pretty damn undesirable.

‘You can…’ Jongdae muttered. The “take the lead” Minseok had suggested sounded a bit wrong, but maybe it was Jongdae’s sexual deprivation.

‘Interview it is, then.’ Minseok set his documents down. Jongdae was suddenly hyperaware of the dust they sent flying around. The sunlight was exposing everything, it was moments before the “golden hour”, no detail seemed to be escaping that period of the day. If you stood near someone, you might even make out how their pupils dilate. It was that time of the day you feel like dust is suddenly everywhere.

‘You’re mysophobic,’ Minseok said. That wasn’t a question, but Jongdae nodded nonetheless. ‘Since when?’

‘I’m not very sure how I can distinguish when it started-’

‘When did you ask yourself “why the hell am I washing my hands so much”?’

Jongdae smiled. He could tell Minseok hardly managed restrained himself from using a heavier word instead of “hell”. It was the first time he heard a professional in the medical area speaking so informally. He didn’t know what to think, but a huge deal of his shame and anxiety was slowly disappearing.

'I was probably around thirteen,' he replied. He heard the smile in his own voice rather than feeling himself smile. It shocked him. He had never smiled whenever he mentioned his condition before.

‘Mysophobia is something you develop,’ Minseok said, looking straight at Jongdae. ‘Do you have any idea why you started developing it?’

Jongdae’s hands met each other over his lap. He had this habit, intertwining his fingers and clenching whenever he felt a little nervous. He didn’t really know the answer to this question.

Well, he did. But if he said it, they would delve even deeper and it wouldn’t have to do with mysophobia at all anymore. It would take a much more personal turn. And Jongdae didn’t feel like it.

Jongdae gave a quick glance at Minseok’s face. He was afraid Minseok would be disappointed. Jongdae was making it difficult for him, it was only the third question and he couldn’t answer it. It was such a simple question but Jongdae apparently couldn’t even do that.

Instead of disappointment, Minseok’s face exposed something more like… concentration. He was writing something on these pervious documents, his hand making large, sharp movements. He was pressing down the paper hard. The veins on his hand were popping some more with every letter Minseok added to his notes. He seemed totally focused on his notes he probably didn’t realise Jongdae’s uncertainty.

In all the movies Jongdae had seen including psychologists, their attention was entirely focused on their patient. Only for a split second would they jot down something. They made it seem like the patient was their entire world, they zeroed on them, they were being expressive and understanding. Well, they kind of were. Who was paying the therapist, after all?

If Minseok was looking, he’d notice from Jongdae’s body talk that he wasn’t planning on answering. But he wasn’t looking.

‘I don’t know why. But it happened little by little.’ He was forced to answer.

‘That’s usually the case with phobias.’ Minseok finally looked up and Jongdae felt a little relieved that he didn’t seem mad. ‘It’s fine that you don’t know, actually. I don’t really care right now, either.’

Kim Minseok… is a therapist, right?

Their eyes met and Jongdae couldn’t hold longer than two seconds, even as Minseok started speaking. Minseok had no trouble maintaining eye contact, but Jongdae preferred the tabletop instead.

‘It says here you haven’t sought any treatment or counseling before,’ Minseok said. ‘Is it true?’

Jongdae nodded.

A small moment of silence passed and Jongdae realised Minseok wasn’t looking, again. ‘It’s true,’ he said. He wondered if the notes he was keeping were relevant to what they were discussing or if it was something entirely different. They did look an awful lot like bills. _Electricity bills,_ actually.

‘And what is it,’ Minseok finally capped his pen, ‘that made you change your mind now?’

‘I think it’s getting rather bad. Of course, I can manage by myself, but…’ Jongdae paused. But what? He could manage by himself.

‘It’s good that you decided on it,’ Minseok said and set his pen aside, almost forcefully. Like if he didn’t put the pen away, something would happen. ‘And I’m not saying this because I’m getting payed.’

Jongdae snorted a little and couldn’t help but smile. What the hell is this…

‘I have a plan, Jongdae,’ Minseok said, and Jongdae’s eyes shot away from Minseok the moment he heard his name. ‘It’s fine to call you Jongdae, right?’

Jongdae didn’t answer right away.

‘You can call me Minseok,’ he suggested with a supposedly enticing chime, as if it was some kind of deal. It came off so childish, just like how kids somehow used a teasing voice to invite another for a trade of cards to complete their collection.

Card _Jongdae_ for card _Minseok._ Yeah, he kind of wanted card _Minseok._

Jongdae nodded, unable to hide a smile, eyes glued to the hands on his lap this time. Even lower than before. They were in such informal terms and they’ve known each other for minutes. Minseok barely knew Jongdae’s deal, so it wasn’t as if he had deducted that acting friendly towards one another could somehow help fix his mysophobia.

‘I’m going to be straight with you, in my ten years of experience I never dealt with mysophobia before,’ Minseok said with a small lopsided grin. It looked almost pained. ‘But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a plan. What it does mean though, is that you need to tell me everything you’re feeling during our sessions. Because we’re doing something special and I don’t know how you would react to it.’

Jongdae nodded. He knew he couldn’t share everything with Minseok, even if he was supposed to. Jongdae was a little more sensitive than he should have been, to everything. He tried telling himself that it was Minseok’s job to help him out and know all of his emotions, but he didn’t want to overwhelm the poor man. He already seemed overwhelmed enough.

Minseok placed his hands, these nice hands, on the table, in the space between them. He spread his fingers a little. ‘We’re doing something called an exposure therapy. And it’s uncomfortable as hell.’

This time “hell” sounded less forced.


	3. Minseok, Jongdae and polished nails

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjdhp_Ss-nhAhVFjqQKHYGjDBgQjRx6BAgBEAU&url=https%3A%2F%2Fsprudge.com%2Fbusan-guide-114120.html&psig=AOvVaw3wGlkOf9i2cVpDYwZb29qt&ust=1556218415316247)

[[Fjk & Masego - Tadow]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hC8CH0Z3L54)

 

Jongdae was stuck in number 3. Just thinking about these things made him feel stressed.

They were in a café this time. Minseok said the clinic’s blueness was uncomfortable (“I don’t understand how someone looked at the final product and thought it was a great idea.”) so their next appointment was somewhere more common. There were people as well there.

It was a nice day. The afternoon was sunny with a pleasant breeze. They were sitting by their window, it was a small table for two, just enough space for their drinks and their arms to rest on it.

Minseok wasn’t wearing his blue uniform today. He arrived in what Jongdae assumed were his casual clothes. It looked pretty effortless – with a simple white t-shirt tucked in blue jeans and a denim jacket he had discarded on his chair. His hair was styled the same way as when he first met him, messily swiped back. This time he could see some of his hair product collected at the roots of his hair though.

Jongdae peeked at Minseok through his eyelashes. He was resting his head on his hand and was analyzing the melting ice cubes in his half-finished drink. That’s when he noticed his polished nails. Whatever remained of his nails, at least, was messily painted in the lightest blue hue.

Jongdae smiled a bit. That’s something unexpected.

Minseok had given him a piece of paper and a pen once their drinks arrived. He told him to write down ten things that he was “reluctant to do”, number 1 being the easiest and number 10 being the near impossible.

Jongdae was feeling more than embarrassed. Whatever he had written so far were such simple things. It was… basic human functions. It was what people did without thinking. God, Minseok shouldn’t see this list…

‘Can I see your list?’

_Oh._

‘But I’m not done yet,’ Jongdae replied. Minseok had finished his drink, the ice cubes were turned into water in his glass. Jongdae had ordered the same coffee, but he had barely touched it. He didn’t really have the chance.

‘It’s fine, whatever you’ve done so far works for now.’

Jongdae had somehow grown to hate Minseok’s nonchalance, it confused him so much. Specialists weren’t _supposed_ to be like that. They were very serious and always looked concerned and used fancy vocabulary and kept notes and asked questions. Minseok was making conversation rather than asking questions, wasn’t feeling like masking his emotions too much, seemed too bored to take notes and sure as hell didn’t use big words. He called Jongdae by his first name, he was straightforward, wasn’t afraid to tell Jongdae what was really going on instead of sugar-coating it. He didn’t seem professional, more like the friend Jongdae never had – the friend to rely on and tell his problems to, without being afraid that he’ll be judged or dumped. A friend that looked more handsome the more Jongdae was looking at him, who had polished nails and a bit of a fidgeting problem. He was playing with the buttons of his jacket underneath the table so that Jongdae wouldn’t see and get distracted, but he noticed nonetheless. It was cute how he tried to hide it, though.

He reluctantly slid the crumpled paper towards Minseok. It was a little wet from Jongdae’s sweat, where his hand was resting as he wrote. He managed to complete everything except for number 10.

‘Please don’t read it out loud,’ he murmured.

‘Why?’

‘It’s embarrassing.’

Minseok cocked an eyebrow and brought the paper nearer to his face. His eyes moved back and forth, quickly reading his list in silence. ‘So, number 5 bothers you but a café doesn’t?’

Number 5? Right, “eating at a restaurant”.

‘Food is different than a drink.’

Minseok made a face as if he didn’t see Jongdae’s logic, but Jongdae knew he did.

‘How about number 10?’

‘I don’t know yet.’

‘You don’t know or do you simply not want to write it down?’

Jongdae looked down. _The second one, of course._ ‘I don’t know yet,’ he repeated, nonetheless. His voice was unstable and there was doubt Minseok realised he was lying. But he didn’t say anything, only hummed to let him know he was letting it slide for now.

Jongdae sipped some more of his coffee. It was a new taste, refreshing. A bit like the weather. A bit like Minseok.

‘Do you like me?’ Minseok suddenly asked, leaning back on his chair, looking straight into Jongdae’s eyes.

Jongdae choked on his drink a little. He put it down hurriedly. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I have a feeling you don’t.’

Jongdae was looking anywhere but at Minseok. He liked Minseok. A whole lot. Maybe. Maybe not?

‘You’re just not what I expected,’ he settled for that.

Minseok’s face immediately lit up in something like amusement. ‘Oh?’

A grin was tugging at his lips and it was distracting. It revealed a line at the corner of his mouth and a barely-there dimple.

‘I expected you to be more… um,’ he didn’t really want to say “professional”. ‘Professional.’

If Minseok was straight with him, Jongdae might as well. It was almost enticing to see what kind of reaction Minseok would have. He didn't seem the type to get offended, but who knows what's in the mind of a specialist.

The barely-there dimple became slightly more visible, to Jongdae’s surprise. ‘I’m only doing this because I figured you’d be embarrassed to go to a therapist. But if you want me to be professional, I-’

‘No! You’re… fine.’ Jongdae suppressed a stronger word at the last moment. ‘I just expected something more movie-like. You know, how in the movies-’

‘I know. But being like in the movies isn’t fun, I think. It makes patients be much more aware that they have a problem and it’s not doing any good to them. It’s not fun for me, either. I feel like I’m interrogating someone.’

Jongdae nodded with a small smile, focusing on Minseok’s hands again.

‘It’s much easier to talk with someone, even if it’s not about their issue. Makes it a whole lot easier to empathise with them, don’t you think? Sometimes company and a nice talk is all someone needs to get better.’

Jongdae laughed. ‘You like your job.’ It was obvious by the way he talked. He had looked into it, he had analysed it.

Minseok mirrored the chuckle, and for a second he even looked a bit embarrassed. ‘I do.’

‘Isn’t it draining, though? Aren’t you ever tired?’

‘It’s more stressing to know that there are people depending so much as their lives on you. You don’t feel the pressure like a surgeon would – lives depend on surgeons, too – but it hurts me to see my patient feeling worse after we’ve managed some progress.’

‘It’s kind of when seeing your friend in a bad mood,’ Jongdae said.

‘Not entirely.’ Minseok paused and looked at Jongdae for a second, analysing him carefully. The smile didn’t falter. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was trying hard to peek into Jongdae's soul, all the hidden parts of his brain. ‘Jongdae, you don’t have too many friends, do you?’

Jongdae looked away again. Minseok could peek after all. He was feeling flustered. ‘How do you come to that conclusion?’ he asked with a panicked chuckle.

‘It takes one to know one, I guess,’ Minseok said, and judging by the crescent his eyes had formed, he was enjoying Jongdae’s suffering. Minseok wasn’t smiling a lot, but he looked cute whenever he did. His cheeks became full and, noticing their roughness, Jongdae suddenly felt very tempted to touch.

‘Minseok, you don’t have friends?’

‘Why are you surprised?’

‘You seem… easy-going and fun and carefree…’

Minseok’s laugh was a little more bitter this time. ‘Maybe.’ Something about his reaction said _I used to be_.

Jongdae decided not to delve in it yet. It wasn’t his job, after all. Minseok was the one supposed to figure him out, not vise versa.

Birds were chirping outside. The people’s conversations around them, the clinking of glass and the café’s soft music didn’t make their silence awkward.

‘When we first met,’ Minseok started, ‘you might have thought I was rude because I wasn’t concentrating while you were talking to me.’

Jongdae remembered that. He was checking his bills. Jongdae wore an annoyed expression at the memory without realizing it and Minseok laughed. His gums showed. Minseok was cute when he laughed.

‘It was because you weren’t comfortable with your words. You were depending a lot on your body language, so I pretended not to see so that you’d use your voice.’

Jongdae’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Really?’

‘And as I told you before, I like talking with my patients. So if you weren’t talking to me, we’d be like in the movies.’

Jongdae laughed. ‘Well, it’s true. I’m not good at socializing.’ He sipped some more of his drink. He thought about it for a second. He always thought before talking, even more so before asking. He took another sip and then, ‘If it isn’t too much trouble, can you help me with that too? I know it’s not your expertise, but simple conversations like these-’

‘It’d be my pleasure.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey ladies and gents first of all thank you for reading this far :)  
> How do you find the "moodsetters" I'm including at the beginning of each chapter? I'd like to know what you think of them/have some advice on how to better them since it's the first time I'm trying something like this out.  
> Comments are very much appreciated :))


	4. MInseok, Jongdae and doorknobs

[](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjLjbnkzLziAhWNZlAKHYg9BEwQjRx6BAgBEAU&url=%2Furl%3Fsa%3Di%26rct%3Dj%26q%3D%26esrc%3Ds%26source%3Dimages%26cd%3D%26ved%3D%26url%3Dhttps%253A%252F%252Fwww.pinterest.com%252Fpin%252F186336503313052622%252F%26psig%3DAOvVaw3XGkU7WD6bSQUqRwKIp3Oe%26ust%3D1559076933905353&psig=AOvVaw3XGkU7WD6bSQUqRwKIp3Oe&ust=1559076933905353)   
  
  
  
  
  


[ONE - Lee Gikwang](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1apPrrp98LY)

 

Minseok hadn’t kept the List of Things That Make Jongdae Feel Not Great like Jongdae had originally thought. Jongdae was holding on to it instead, staring at it at his place.

The first thing he had written was “touching doorknobs”. It was so embarrassing. Thank God Minseok hadn’t held onto it for further speculation. Maybe he read it briefly. Maybe he didn’t really think of what he was reading. Yeah, Minseok probably had no idea what Jongdae had written down, he was so keen on what he _hadn’t_ written down.

Number 10 was kind of complicated. Well, not really. He just didn’t want Minseok to know it.

Not that all the rest was okay. Touching doorknobs and lending others his belongings were pitiful. It misled people so very often. They thought Jongdae wasn’t touching them because they were “gross” and dirty. No, that wasn’t what Jongdae thought of others. Yet with instant sanitisation, usage of gloves, all of the things he did made them think that.

Yes, humans were “dirty” in that sense. Bacteria is all over them, in them. In every crook and corner. But you can’t help bacteria, and just because you shower it doesn’t mean they’re all gone. He wasn’t grossed out by humans, he was grossed out by the bacteria on them. And he was afraid of others’ bacteria mixing with his. It was simple, really. But no one understood why he was afraid of bacteria in the first place.

Nor did he. Not really, at least. Minseok was there for that, he would help him understand things and give answers to his questions and be very nice and kind and handsome…

He folded the list until it became a tiny square, hoping that he’ll end up losing it if he made it small enough. He left it on his desk. His clean, spotless desk.

Everything was clean at Jongdae’s. That’s why he couldn’t really stand it if anyone accessed his room. He’d included it in number 9 on his list.

His furniture was minimal and light-coloured, so that he could see any sign of dirt on them. He had a few surfaces to clean – the toughest was the toilet – and to wash his sheets. His room was small too, it only included a bedroom, a kitchen and a toilet. It would be a bother to clean a large room every day, after returning home from work.

He was an interpreter and translator in the company he worked for. They had relations with many foreign countries, but especially with America. He was easily accepted since not too many people knew English. The CEO was also understanding of Jongdae’s condition – it was kind of perfect, actually. There was only this co-worker bugging him at work, but he was a nice kid. You could tell he was eager to help, he was open-hearted and enthusiastic. He did end up being overwhelming, though, especially for Jongdae. Jongdae couldn’t cope well with over-zealous people. Why was he hanging around him anyway? Wasn’t Jongdae pretty boring for his standards?

Well, tomorrow was Saturday. So, no work and no enthusiastic kids. What did happen on Saturdays though, were meetings with Minseok. Saturdays and Tuesdays were the days. Minseok kept asking him if it was okay on Saturdays and what if he needed a rest and what if he had plans and what if he wanted to go out. Jongdae felt the need to shush him but asked the same thing back. For Minseok it was work after all, and Saturdays were part of the weekend. But Minseok convinced him he had other week days that substituted his Saturdays. Thursdays were free, or something like that.

They wouldn’t meet at the clinic. Minseok made that pretty clear, that the clinic wouldn’t be their standard. They wouldn’t go to the clinic at all actually, because they needed to complete whatever Jongdae had written on his list. Besides, Minseok kind of hated his office even though he tried to hide it whenever Jongdae brought something up that had to do with it.

They’d meet at that café again. A meeting point for friends, even though there were more couples than anything else in there. It was a rather “magical” café; large windows, pleasant breeze, many flowers and plants, a glass ceiling. They’d only went on sunny afternoons there, though. He bet on rainy days it would lose its aura.

Saturday promised sunshine again. He’d meet Minseok at around four o’clock and hope there would be empty tables. He felt like drinking juice in Minseok’s company today.

It was barely three o’clock and  Jongdae shot up from his seat. He finally sent a few business emails he’d been procrastinating for almost four days now and he felt light as ever. He had nothing else to do but to get ready for the afternoon outing.

Remembering how simply dressed Minseok was, he thought he could go for something similar, even if the gloves would be out of place. He usually wore formal clothes in order for them to blend in, but he figured it could be considered as fashion sense in the 21st century. Besides, he’d feel embarrassed to appear in a suit again while Minseok would be in jeans.

After much consideration, he settled on a pair of slacks and a t-shirt. He’d wear a coat just in case it would get chilly. The gloves added an unexpectedly pleasant touch.

 

 

 

It was bad that they always seemed to meet during the “golden hour”, because everything looked good at that time. As well as Minseok.

He was already sitting at the table they had taken last time, the one by the window. From afar he looked so youthful. His clothes could have contributed to that, but his body was in extremely good shape. He wasn’t very tall, but he looked strong, and this time his shirt was a close-fitting one and the stretch at his shoulders was obvious.

Jongdae made his way shyly towards the table. Minseok’s gaze was fixed outside, resting his chin on his hand the same way he did last time. His nails were still painted the same colour as yesterday, but the polish was a little chipped. He looked spaced out.

Jongdae pulled the chair as quietly as he could manage, in hopes of enjoying an absent-minded Minseok for a while longer. The warm light was beautifully highlighting Minseok’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose. The way he looked at the small garden outside, as if admiring it, it was adorable.

‘Good afternoon, Jongdae,’ he said, almost making Jongdae jump in surprise. He wasn’t as absent-minded as he seemed.

‘Good afternoon,’ he murmured and pulled the chair back entirely, not caring for the noise it caused. He sat lightly and smiled sheepishly when he saw Minseok was looking at him intensely.

‘I like your clothes today,’ he said with a small smile of himself. Jongdae snorted softly. He hoped his face wasn’t red because he felt it heating up. He never knew how to react to compliments, since he rarely ever got any. ‘Thank you,’ he said in the smallest voice.

‘So, are you ready?’

Jongdae cocked his head to the side. ‘Ready for what, exactly?’

‘For touching doorknobs,’ Minseok said and laughed breathily at how taken aback Jongdae was.

‘W-we’re doing this today?’

First of all, how on earth did Minseok remember this, how did he remember it was his number one while he didn’t even have the list with him? He only looked at it once.

‘Well, once you’re able to do number 10, you’ll be healed. Don’t you want to get started already?’ Minseok said and looked at him with something undistinctive in his eyes.

 _Healed?_ Can you really heal mysophobia?

‘Do you want to try it out here? In this café?’

‘This café’s doorknob…?’

Minseok nodded. He didn’t seem pressuring. He seemed like he was genuinely asking, and he probably actually was. But Jongdae knew these kind of questions were “trap” questions. If he said no, Minseok would question him and be disappointed and think that Jongdae’s weak and unwilling. Jongdae already had made a pretty bad impression – pretty pitiful, really, and the last thing he wanted was to let Minseok down.

‘Okay.’ This “okay” was unstable. It was muttered and it was uncertain. It was more of a question. It was more of a “no”, and Jongdae could hear all of that in his voice. So did Minseok.

‘This is your therapy, Jongdae. I might be leading you but I’m definitely not forcing you,’ he said.

Jongdae opened his mouth to reply and say that it was alright and that he could do something as simple, but the waitress interrupted them.

It was like time suddenly became a little less fluid.

Minseok ordered first, because Jongdae hadn’t decided yet. The breeze momentarily ceased and the curtains stilled. Jongdae ended up ordering the same drink as Minseok, just like last time. Minseok smiled kindly at the waitress and she disappeared with a nod and a smile of herself. She didn’t face Jongdae once. She barely looked at him when he was placing his order. She was much more drawn to Minseok and his polite manners and quiet tone and the strands of hair that were sticking a little all over the place because of the breeze.

It was the golden hour again. Minseok looked beautiful. Everything in the café was picture-worthy.

Well, maybe everything expect for himse-

‘Your eyes have a nice colour,’ Minseok hummed.

If he thought he was heating up with Minseok’s previous compliment, now he was on fire. He was aiming for another “thank you” but all he managed was a panicked sound.

Minseok found this so amusing for whatever reason. He laughed out loud. It was brief; a clear, breathy, high-pitched sound. His gums were showing. His teeth were a little crooked and had a certain inclination.

Jongdae felt his face throbbing because of the heat. He felt the urge of covering his face with his hands, but that wouldn’t do. That’d be even more embarrassing.

‘You really don’t usually get compliments, do you,’ Minseok said with a small wheeze. His eyes had become little slants and his cheeks looked fuller.

Jongdae let a small frustrated sound. He would make it bigger if he could, but he was sharing this café with another twenty or so people, and he had embarrassed himself enough for today.

Minseok laughed again.

 

 

 

 

Jongdae gulped. _Oh dear God_.

Minseok was paying at the counter, with the premise of allowing Jongdae some private space as he tried to open the door. He had slipped his right glove off and pocketed it carelessly.

Minseok was making a fuss about dropping his coins. He dropped them in purpose. He asked for the toilet even though he went a while ago. He was trying hard to give Jongdae some time.

Jongdae was frozen. His bare hand hovering over the doorknob. It was round, small and shining softly in the early dusk’s light. He could see fingerprints on it.

Minseok returned from the toilet. He saw Jongdae was just sitting there, in the exit, his hand right over the doorknob. He decided not to interrupt and just pretended he was looking for something in his coat’s pocket. His car keys, or something.

 _Ding-ding_.

The door opened with a chime, causing Minseok to look up sharply. It was indeed Jongdae who opened it, his hand holding the doorknob, grasp firm.

And then he released it with a jolt as if it was electric and almost ran out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading :P  
> im tired omg


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